


Portmanteau

by prion



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, True Blood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ancient History, Crossover, Drama, Fantasy, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-28 04:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15040817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prion/pseuds/prion
Summary: It was the end: The Veil wasn’t meant to be destroyed so abruptly.  The Fade had crashed onto reality like an avalanche, sweeping everything into itself until all was consumed - except her.  Armed with knowledge and power, some stolen and most earned, she survived and tore through the Fade into a new world.  She’d inspire, be revered, and worshipped. But to a little boy, she’d always be his light in the darkness.





	Portmanteau

It was the fishermen who first saw the monstrosity.

All accounts said it started with a great underwater explosion that had flung waves and salty sprays of water high into the air and beach.  The waves rocked their boats, crushed them together where they had gathered on the docks, and several cries of panic pierced the air as some of the men were knocked off their fishing trawlers and tangled themselves in the fishing nets.

Bright green wisps, fire and lightning spit out from underneath the surface, the water swelling up like a giant blister.  Something titanic was emerging from the depths. 

Enraptured, the men could only hold their breaths and wait with wide eyes.  The bubble grew twice its size, three times, and then with a thunderous roar, something scaly, black and red burst through the surface, whipping its head and body back and forth to stay afloat.

Shrieking, the monster’s head fell back under the waves before one huge beat of its wings ejected it up into the air.

By now, everyone in the town could see the beast as it flew over them and away. Filled with marvel and fear, they knew what they had just witnessed: the birth of a legendary winged leviathan.

***

Two men had died when the sea had birthed its serpent child.  Tangled in the nets, the bodies weren’t found until hours later.

Their wives had mourned them, throwing flowers onto their graves and into the sea.  It was life: the ocean both provided and took away.

It was for this reason that one of the widows now walked solemnly away from town.  With a day’s worth of food and water in a bag, the disapproval of the townsfolk behind her, and with child, she planned to beg the sea dragon for a boon. 

She was resolute until half-way into the valley the dragon was last seen in.  Her eyes roamed across the clearing, stripped of trees and large trenches dug into the earth.  It was only three days ago, before her husband’s death, this had been a beautiful gathering of trees and shade.  Nerves failing her, she realized that the serpent had crashed and unable to stop itself, slid across the forest and flattened everything in its way.

What if it was injured and in a furious mood?

Her feet refused to move, and she stood there for a solid minute.  It felt like hours as she fidgeted and plucked at the frayed edges of her gray tunic dress.  No, she decided, there was no other way.  She would receive a boon or she and her baby would perish, either quickly in this valley by the jaws of an angered sea dragon or slowly back in town with no family and husband to provide for her and unborn child.

She shifted one foot forward, then the other, and soon she was walking steadily through the valley, parallel to the gouged lines on the ground.  Her feet didn’t even miss a step when the air vibrated, the valley echoing the dragon’s warning growl.

The rumbling intensified until at last the great sea serpent was in view.  Beautiful scales of black and red glimmered in the sunlight but all she could think about was that it was much bigger than she had thought.  Its head alone was bigger than two horse lengths. And those teeth…

The dragon had tucked itself in a corner lined with a rocky wall on one side, and tall and yet undamaged oak trees on the other.  Its body was mostly shaded from the sun and curled tight, tail wrapped around itself, and only lifting its head to huff at her.

She almost stumbled back when the force of that exhale hit her.

Her words suddenly came out in a jumble.  She barely knew what she was saying, how could she expect it to understand?  But she kept talking and finally with a bated bite of her lip, her fingers went around her neck to untie her coral necklace.  It had been a gift from her husband, who had very much loved the sea.

Dragon eyes narrowed at the offering.  Unimpressed, it tucked its head back under the fold of its wing.

 _No, please_. 

All fortitude drained from her bones, and she sobbed; she couldn’t stop the large gulps of air and broken weeping. She dropped to her knees then, realizing that the prettiest and most valuable thing she owned still wasn’t enough to gain the dragon’s favor.   

A little worm of bitter resentment crawled inside her, hadn’t the sea taken her husband?  She screamed at the creature. What more could it want?  Please, she begged, she’ll give it anything it wanted.  Whatever was in her power, she’ll do it!

Desperate, her hands grabbed at her pack, digging through it and upending it all to see if there was anything else of value she could offer.

Her last dried fish, a small jug to carry her water, a hard piece of bread – and nothing else.

Weeping freely, her tears blurred her vision.  She tried wiping her eyes again and again, but they wouldn’t stop, couldn’t get herself out of this hellhole of despair. She didn’t know how long she crouched there, a grown woman bawling like a child, but a warm breath swept through her, shook her.  Her eyes snapped open, and she lifted her head from her hands and met the glowering stare of the serpent.  It was barely an arm’s length away.

This must be how she dies.  She had foolishly angered it and now she was going to die.  She snapped her eyes closed again, praying her end would be fast and painless.

The silence ticked by, one moment and then the next, and when nothing happened, she opened one eye and then the other, to the sound of gentle scraping.  What was that?

There was no sense to what the dragon was currently doing.  With its nose, it was awkwardly nudging her trinket and food items in the direction of her opened bag.  It stopped then, looked at her, glanced at the objects scattered on the ground, and back to her.

Warily avoiding the foot-long teeth, she scrambled forward to gather everything and deposit them in her pack.  Nervous hope blossomed in her chest as the creature dipped its head, opened its mouth slightly to daintily grip her bag in its teeth.  Was it accepting?

In a rush of wind, wings, and talons – before she could utter a startled cry – she was swept off the ground, housed protectively within a cage of claws, and launched into the sky.

She was flying!  She was thrilled, scared beyond belief, hair whipping about her face, but awe kept her eyes open.  Peering down, she saw trees zip by, shrinking ever smaller as the dragon rose higher into the clouds, and there, the sea side town perched on top of the hill, home to thousands of her clan, steadily grew as they approached.

The heavens were the domain of the gods and she wondered if this was what they saw whenever they looked upon humans.  _Tiny_ , a small and disappointed part of her thought.  They must be tiny in the eyes of the gods.

All too quickly, they reached the coast.

The creature didn't fly over the town, instead choosing an empty part of the beach, hovering over the soft sand and gently releasing her from its grip.  She was about to thank it when her pack was lightly dropped at her feet.

She felt crushed; the dragon hadn't accepted after all.

The leviathan then stared at her, its eyes looking at her face, then a quick glance at her neck, then her arms and feet. Feeling oddly self-conscious, she clasped her hands together and tried to look small.  The creature seemed to be even more displeased by the action and with a growl that sounded like a harrumph, it ascended back into the air.

Looking at her pack, she couldn’t stop the despair that was building in her again.  It washed over her and drowned her until she couldn’t breathe.  She had failed in her quest. What was she supposed to do now –

A pile of fish was dumped not even ten feet from her. 

It was a collection of different types, all fresh and still jumping in the air.  Judging by the fish still impaled and wriggling on the dragon’s teeth, the creature had used its massive jaws to skim over the water surface to catch them. A huge tongue darted in and out, dislodging the fish and in a snap, the fish was gone.

Gobsmacked, she felt the prickle of tears forming in her eyes again, but this time it was with gratitude.

The sea dragon didn’t wait for her to say anything, didn’t spare her even one last glance before lifting back up into the skies, returning to the valley.

She didn’t care about its sudden dismissal, and she barely noticed the approaching townsfolk as they started to crowd around her and the fish.

“You asked it for fish?” one of them whispered.

She rubbed and looked down at her round belly. “Protection for my child.”

The divine beast – because it couldn’t be anything but be godsent – returned weekly with a fresh catch for her.  She dried what she could and sold the rest.  What she couldn’t eat, she traded for vegetables, grain, and cloth.

The whispers started about this time, quiet hisses and soft-spoken words behind her back.  They didn’t know how to treat her, no one knew if the serpent was an omen of good or bad.  Those who thought it good, approached her and traded with her, and the rest ignored her.

She never told them that she hadn’t given it anything in return.  More accurately, it hadn’t taken anything she offered. She supposed the debt would be collected later and dearly hoped that the price wouldn’t be too high.

***

With the money she had saved over the course of two months, she was able to hire a midwife. When her water broke, and the contractions became unbearable, she focused her thoughts on her darling child.  It would be alright, everything was going to be alright, she chanted to herself, for her child had the protection of the sea dragon.

With a burst of staggering pain, a baby’s wail was heard, and the new mother wept in joy and relief.

It was a boy.  A pink darling little boy.

***

She had thought the dragon’s weekly gift of fish was going to stop once her boy was born.  A woman her age could still work even after her pregnancy, she thought proudly.

But the leviathan didn’t share her opinion.  It had inspected her, sniffed in the direction of her legs, and deemed them too weak to hold her up.  She was offended, but kept her mouth shut.  Who was she to say no to this divine creature?  After that little condescending observation from the beast, she started receiving a pile of fish every four days.

***

Her introduction into this new world was terrifying and painful.  She had punched a hole in the Fade and by a great force, was sucked through, thrown into sea water, and her lungs bereft of air.

With the murmurings of the _Vir’abelasan_ ringing in her mind and the fragment of Mythal she had stolen from Solas, the once-dubbed Inquisitor had adopted the dragon form all through her sojourn into the Fade.  It was now a wild place – much wilder than it was before – reality constantly changing and inhabited by agonized spirits still suffering from the trauma of the Veil’s sundering.  Mythal’s dragon provided the best protection while she trudged through the remains of her world and searched for an escape.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. 

After the loss of her arm, she had initially gathered new allies to prevent Solas from recovering enough ancient temples and artifacts to enact his plans.  She had even managed to get some of her spies into his network, entirely through Leliana’s cunning; the spymaster had preened herself for days with that accomplishment.  It was to buy them time, to convince Solas to use his knowledge and magic to better the current world, not try to remake it.  But when that failed, all efforts were geared towards simply stopping him.

She had commissioned the two genius dwarves Arcanist Dagna and Sandal to craft her a durable magical construct to replace her arm.  When she first saw its final form, she could think no other word for it except beautiful, both in the physical craftmanship and delicate enchantments embedded into the metal and wooden arm. 

The former Inquisitor trained her body and mind almost to the point of breaking.  She was desperate to learn anything she could, even training under the reclusive Hero of Ferelden and the ever-confident Champion of Kirkwall.  She absorbed anything her former Inner Circle friends offered.  Once, she had been only her clan’s First, but with the physical enhancing techniques from the _Dirth’ena Enasalin_ , all avenues of magic and physical skills were open to her. 

Open, but not necessarily obtained, at least not easily.  She still flagged behind in her shield techniques, much to Blackwall’s exasperation.  And her bard skills? Well, Leliana had walked into her bedchamber once when the Inquisitor had been distracted doing paperwork and singing under her breath.  The spymaster had promptly walked out. 

It wasn’t all a complete failure.   With the Seeker’s help, she had improved her swordsmanship, making her far more accurate and deadlier with her enchanted blade – so much so, it had impressed even Vivienne.  Both Leliana and Sera had harangued her on her archery until she could hit a moving mark from seventy meters.  Necromancy was also thrown into the mix, thanks to Dorian.  She had been reluctant at first, but then with a cheeky smirk, the Tevinter had insisted, practically sang over his shoulder that she’d _regret it_ if there was a hole in her knowledge.  That had thoroughly convinced her to steep herself into one of the most despised forms of magic.

She knew she didn’t have time enough.  How do you compete with the accumulated knowledge and experience of millennia? Because that was what Solas represented.  She tried to learn it all, but…

In the end, through circumstances she was still uncertain about – too many factions, too many countries divided and trying to solve it their way, and too many damn concurrent attempts from too many parties to manipulate both the Fade and Veil – the Veil had suddenly ceased to exist.  With a blast that spanned the entire sky, it was just gone, and both reality and the Fade were stripped naked.

People died and suffered, spirits driven insane; each side feeding the other’s agony.  It was a never-ending loop of torture.  Even now she couldn’t recall how long she’d wandered and stumbled through Thedas, completely consumed by the Fade.

Even Solas, the poor guilt-ridden fool, never envisioned the sudden destruction of the Veil.  He had planned for it to quietly and incrementally drop.  It would’ve still been chaotic, but at least it wouldn’t have fucking destroyed the world.

Spit out of the Fade and choking in water, her dragon form uselessly scrabbled around, lost and unable to determine where was up.

She didn’t know how she did it, but her head finally broke through the surface, salty water burning her eyes, nose and lungs.  Flailing again, her body dipped below the water but with a mighty and desperate flap of her wings, she lanced out of the sea and into the clouds.

Stubborn will guided her flight and weariness dropped her from the sky as her wings shook and collapsed.  She wouldn’t remember how she nearly wiped out an entire valley of trees, but it wouldn’t be difficult to figure out from the skid marks.  Finally, alone and too tired to care, sleep claimed her for over two days.

On the third day, she awoke healed but exhausted.  She tasted the air and detected no one, only the saltiness from the sea. Crawling on her white scaled belly, she barely took note that there was only one moon in the sky before finding herself a shaded corner and falling back to sleep.

It was during one of her naps that she heard padded footsteps.  There were people here?  She growled, loudly, too tired to deal with anyone, friend or foe.  She hoped that whoever it was would be deterred and wouldn’t have The Iron Bull’s … ah, enthusiasm when encountering dragons.

The sunlight revealed a pregnant woman, bravely approaching.  Sensing no threat and seeing no weapons on the human, she waited – and was disappointed.

The woman had wanted a trade, offering her pink coral necklace with a trembling hope.

There was a language barrier, that much was clear. The former Inquisitor couldn’t know what the woman was asking for and didn’t care. She was mired in hopelessness, in the loss of her entire world, and wanted to grieve in peace.

She could almost ignore the woman’s profound distress, except …

Her traipses through the Fade had made her sensitive to emotions and intent.  Nothing like Cole, who could unabashedly read someone’s mind and blurt out their most private thoughts.  Ah Cole, she remembered with sad fondness, look at her now, almost too empty to feel even compassion.  But it was enough to feel the grief in the woman, and it resonated with her own.

The human must have lost someone dear to her.  The once-called Herald knew that type of sobbing.  She had gone through many episodes of it, losing her friends and family in the many battles and skirmishes and then finally all at once when the Veil crashed down. Coupled with the fact that this human was pregnant and alone in her quest to confront her in dragon form, it was … inspiring.  The woman wanted something for her unborn child, the mage still didn’t know what it was specifically, but for now, she would look after them both.

There would be no trade, she decided, not for something like this.  What she really wanted was her world back, and it was something the human could not give her.

Following the sea salt in the air, she soared into the sky, cloth sack between her teeth, and human in tow safely within her claws.  With the mother-to-be gently deposited onto the beach, she allowed herself to observe this bold woman. 

The human was physically unremarkable. Dark hair with a couple of gray strands held in a bun, the full sleeves of her shirt still wet with tears, her tunic dress stained in several places, and her bones … that was a problem.  The woman’s collar bone was too prominent, she thought.  The human hadn’t been eating enough and she still offered food to her?  That wouldn’t do.

Reminded of her days as the Inquisitor providing for the Hinterland refugees, she set out to do the same for this woman.  She returned quickly, hastily dumping the abundant catch before flying off as soon as she noticed other humans cautiously drawing closer.

There was no room in her heart to deal with the other humans – not yet.

***

It had been weeks since she arrived in this world.  She didn’t care to count after the seventh one.

Observing from high above, she would survey the land, rivers, and mountains.  Sometimes she would spot a settlement, a small village, another small town, and even a couple fortified cities.  Human, they were all human, she noticed.  She refused to believe that humans were the only race here. There was a ting of magic in this world, not as much as her own, but it was there, elusive but present – even a hint of it inside the town the few times when she would fly over.  She couldn’t be the only magical one here. 

Her dragon form provided the best overall strength and defense, and so she remained this way as she explored this new strange world.  But in her most private moments, she’d admit to herself that she didn’t want to return to her body yet, wanted to lose herself in the instincts of a dragon, of Mythal, because then she wouldn’t have to feel so heartbroken all the damn time.

She had made a point to endear herself to the humans in the township but was unsure of how successful her attempts were.  She was still sporting scaled wings and sharp teeth, and back in Thedas, dragons were territorial, aggressive – and hunted down.  Having led many of those hunting parties, she had become quite the dragon hunter, but it was only on those dragons that settled too closely to towns and cities and were picking off caravans.  She didn’t want to give these humans any reason to start a dragon hunt here, her charming little vale was growing on her, especially now that the greenery was coming back.

She didn’t try to insert herself into their daily lives, helping occasionally and when necessary. 

Now was such an occasion.

A fire had started in one of the residential areas, a tipped candle or an unattended hearth was most likely the culprit.  Whatever it was, she had noticed the large column of smoke even from her nest in the valley.  By the time she reached the walled town, half of it was engulfed in flames and thick black smoke, the fire having reached stores of coal and grease.

Assessing the growing disaster, she threw one idea out after another.  No, she couldn’t scoop up water in her jaw and deliver it, her head wasn’t that big.  Flapping her wings would only work for much smaller fires, doing it here would only encourage the flames.  A Blizzard spell would freeze the townsfolk … but wait a moment, if she cast it high enough, the heat from the high summer sun could melt the ice and snow, before it all reached the ground in a rapid downpour.

Plan in mind, she immediately shot up with a powerful burst from her wings, glided through the clouds and began summoning a Blizzard.  The magic from the Fade easily came forth, too eager she thought. Dark clouds formed and roiled threateningly above her as she tempered its intensity and traded it for duration, wanting to ensure all the flames were put out.

Plunging back down to perch on top of a sturdy stone wall, she watched in satisfaction as the fires choked and died in the heavy deluge of rain and flooding.

Through the incessant pattering of the rain, she heard the excited but cautious thumping of bare feet and boots, steadily advancing on her position.  She gazed down at the hushed crowd assembling below and searched for a face.  There was the human woman and the boy, about three years old now, safely tucked in the folds of her skirt.

As the last of her spell completed, she ascended back into the skies, the town’s cheering barely reaching her ears before she was only a spot in the clouds.

***

It was only a matter of time before that boy got himself in trouble.  Never had she seen a more energetic and curious child than that boy – and foolishly brave.  Trouble wasn’t a new concept for the child, but this time, it required her intervention.

The tempest had arrived at sunset with little warning; waves crashed against the shore and the boats out at sea were quickly brought in.  The ones too far from the coast were abandoned as she circled around, individually located each stranded fisherman and grabbed them with her claws. 

She had just dropped one back onto the beach when her little ward streaked behind her to try to help the dockhands control the swaying boats.  A rope snapped free and whipped him off the docks. 

It wasn’t until his mother had shrieked for help that she realized what had happened.

Her throat rumbling in a frustrated growl, she took off into the air to rescue him, almost knocking off the fisherman she had just saved back into the water. 

Visibility was horrible; the sky had darkened, the rain relentless, and the waters almost black. But there! That bobbing little head of black hair.

And she breathed out in relief, _good boy_. Sputtering and struggling, he had managed to stay afloat as he was swept out into the sea.

With jaw wide open, she dived down, snatched him up from the waves and dropped him onto the soft sand, the boy completely drenched in rain, sea water and saliva.  Waiting several seconds for him to cough out some of the water in his lungs, she bumped his chest with her nose and narrowed her large eyes at him in a chastising glare.  With fresh bruises forming on his shoulder and neck, the boy dropped his gaze immediately to his shuffling feet, embarrassed.

She gave him one last glower before casting a Barrier on him, to protect him and most importantly to easily locate him.  The bright blue glow over his skin was visible a league away in case the little weasel – because she still didn’t know his name – did something stupid again.

She had left him with his mother, to search for more fishermen still straggling at sea.  As she flew away, she almost laughed at the boy, wide eyed and utterly enchanted by his luminescent hands.  Not five minutes later, she’d see that her Barrier was a lucky bit of foresight; many of the boats were damaged beyond repair and had started to crumble, leaving flotsam in the water light enough for the strong winds to pick up and throw about. 

One such large piece, an ugly mass of sail, wood and rope, was flung towards the boy.  Without hesitation and arms held out defensively, he stepped in between his mother and the projectile.  

_Fool boy!_

For one slow moment, she was certain of his death, could imagine the sharp wood piercing his flesh and impact breaking his bones, but then the spiky ball of debris bounced harmlessly away from him. Her sudden bit of panic evaporated from her as his mother wrapped the stunned boy in her arms and sprinted up the hill into the safety of the town walls.

Through this small bit of magic, she unknowingly further elevated his status, from the common folk his mother belonged in to the higher class meant for intellectuals and priests.  To his elders, he had been gifted by the ocean, shining like a beacon, and acted as protector to his mother.

It wasn’t until a week later that she met him again.

With bruises still healing, the seven-year-old boy had ventured alone at night into the woods to search for her nest, and now stood upright before her dragon form, a weird combination of pride and bashfulness in his posture.  He nervously introduced himself to her, now called by a new name.  She still didn’t understand the language, but it sounded like the words day-woe-lamb?

She might have been clueless to the true pronunciation of his name, but the meaning was clear.   Her connection to the Fade whispered it in her ears, _the hand of god_.

It was a bit too pretentious, she thought with a grimace.  The boy gasped, and she quickly smoothed out her face, her eyes shining a little too sharply in the moonlight and accidentally displaying an alarming amount of razor teeth in her disapproval of his name.

And then it hit her why they’d give him such a title.  It was because of her.  Shocked, she never thought they’d assign her divinity.  Had they never seen magic before? It existed here, she felt it several times! Or was it because she stayed as a dragon?  No one in her world thought dragons in the wild as divine: powerful and clever large beasts, but not godly.

Unnerved, she recalled the broken history of the Evanuris.  She didn’t want to revive Mythal’s following, she was no deity to worship and wanted no tie to their faiths and prayers, but how to gently guide them away from their misunderstanding?

The boy called out to her, focusing her attention back onto him.

Well, she eventually decided, if they were going with pretentious names she’ll give him one.  It’d be like an inside joke, known only to her. Besides, it was much easier to say than whatever his tribe was calling him. 

That night she silently dubbed him Godric.  Divine right.

**Author's Note:**

> There isn’t a lot of information on Godric’s history, from what I can tell. Hell, even the Anglo-saxon name Godric isn’t old enough, appearing about five centuries after his birth, which led to me making up a new name with a similar meaning, looking into proto-Celtic for simplicity instead of the too many languages that fall under the label Celtic. I don’t even know if it’s a real name and I had intentionally kept it vague.
> 
> Gaul was a large region spanning from the Western coast of Europe to the Mediterranean Sea, inhabited by many tribes or clans with their own culture and laws; many of them were organized and wealthy enough to build cities and fortifications. Unfortunately, many of the records about them were written through the eyes of their Roman conquerors.
> 
> Mythal’s origin myth places her with the sea. Due to her status as the patron of motherhood and frequently invoked for protection, I thought it fitting the widow would ask for her blessing.
> 
> I probably shouldn’t have started a new story, but I couldn’t get this out of my mind. I don’t think I’m even a True Blood fan, only specific characters from it. Not sure if I want this as a one-shot or expand it…


End file.
